It Was Never the Dark
by listeninggame
Summary: She can make light come to life at her fingertips and consume the darkness around her. She never had any reason to be afraid of the dark. But to become the dark... that was a fear that followed her to bed at night and woke up with her in the morning. Jubilee contemplates her inner demons after she crawls into Ray's bed during a storm. Jubilee-centric. Mentions Jubilay.
1. Dark Heart

**So, this is my second X-Men Evo fic, and yes, it is again New Mutants. This is Jubilee-centric, though Jubilay plays a big part. Ray only gets one line though, so you don't have to ship them to read this. It's more of a self-examination. I hope you like it! Please review with something, even if it's just :). If you get bored halfway through, scroll to the bottom and tell me why. I won't mind, I promise.**

 **Also, if you like this fic, check out my other X-Men Evo fic _Public Display_ s.**

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Jubilee was never scared of the dark considering she can make light manifest from her fingertips. She always knew that the dark can never hurt her and that with one flick of her finger it will just wash away, like it was never there, like it was the absence of something. That isn't why she pads into Ray and Bobby's room late one Thursday night. The doorknob is cold under the pulse thrumming in her fingertips. She was never scared of the dark.

A crack of lightning outside the mansion makes her jump and throw the door open. She hastily crawls over Ray's sleeping body to wedge herself between him and the wall. His wall is covered with posters that she can't make out in the pitch black of the room, but she knows what they are from memory. Newspaper clippings, movie posters old and new, political propaganda, and anything else that caught Ray's artistic eye are pinned all over his side of the room with personal photographs of his family at Xavier scattered all throughout. When the thunder finally comes, it is so far away that Ray's heartbeat seems louder in her ear. The posters she can't see stared down at her, so she rolls over and buries her face in his chest. She was never scared of the dark.

Peering up through her curtain of black hair, she can see him looking at her with bewildered eyes. His arched eyebrows are asking a silent question. She buries her face in his white tank top again, whispering more to herself than to him, "I'm not afraid of the dark."

His arm wraps around her waist, rolling her onto her other side so her back is pressed against his front. Looking back over her shoulder, she can see his eyes are tired and unamused even in the darkness. She's never done this, come into his room at night. She's worried what he'll think, but not worried enough to leave. Bobby's snoring in his bed on the other side of the room, and she worries what he'll think, too, when the morning comes and the light floods the room through the rain-streaked window and chases the darkness out of all the corners and cracks. When she opens her eyes, it'll be like it was never there, like it was the absence of something. She was never scared of the dark.

His eyes flutter closed after a moment of scanning her body under his sheets. His eyes may have stopped, but his hands don't as they slide up and down the curve from her shoulder to her hip. She has a big butt, broad hips, a small waist, and a tinier torso, giving her a pear shape. On the way up, his hands slip under her bright red camisole, and she shivers. It feels like he can still see her, even though his eyes are closed and his body has gone lax against hers. It comforts her to know that he knows she's there, that he's okay with her not asking and just doing, that if she disappears in the morning the tingle of his hand against her side will still be on their skin. Sometimes she needs a reminder that it's real and it's there, that the memories they manage to slip in between the big things actually happened, that the empty spaces in her mind aren't just the absence of something. It was just dark. She was never scared of the dark.

His hand stops on the flat of her stomach above the waistband of her matching bright red pajama pants. His fingers fan out there and just rest over her abs. She never had abs before Xavier. She had a little bit of fat that would hang over the edge of her pants and her thighs jiggled. They've toned now, but she still has the stretch marks all on her hips and legs. She hates them, but Ray likes to draw them because they remind him of lightning. He's not like the boys she used to date who told her to lose weight so her stretch marks would go away or considered themselves "generous" for dating a "fat girl." One boy actually thought they were scars she got from a knife fight, which were common occurrences around that one foster home she was in. That was a bad time. She can tell by the silences he leaves between his answers that Ray has seen a lot of bad times. He doesn't share with her, but he doesn't need to. She was never scared of the dark.

His breath is hot on the back of her neck, reminding her of that one summer when the air conditioner broke so her foster parents let her sleep in their bed because they had a cool draft at night. That was after the bad time. Her current foster parents are good people, who didn't get rid of her when they found out she was a mutant. Instead, they adopted her. The papers are still going through because the foster system is crappy, but she's grateful that they even wanted to in the first place. Then they sent her to Xavier and she felt abandoned for a little bit and she was scared they would forget about her, like she was never there, like she was the absence of something, but they still wrote and they still left a place for her on holidays and when mutants were exposed to the world, they cared enough to take her home. Her old room felt familiar but wrong, like looking at a friend in the dark whose features are distorted by the strange shadows of nighttime. For a horrid moment, she realized she had forgotten about her old room, like it was never there, like it was the absence of something. Again, a sucker punch of realization came when she thought about her family at Xavier, without her, forgetting her, like she was never there, like she was the absence of something. She spent her first night back crying in the dark curled up in her pink unicorn comforter. She was never scared of the dark.

Laying here now with Ray behind her and the darkness surrounding her, she lights a microscopic spark with her pinky finger and watches that one little speck chase away all the dark in front of her. She can see now all the purples of the sci-fi movie poster in front of her and she can make out the yellow and blue crisscrossing on Ray's plaid bed quilt. There's no trace of the dark left, like it was never there, like it was the absence of something. It doesn't stain, it doesn't taint, it doesn't linger. In the presence of light, the dark just ceases to exist. Darkness is the absence of light. It is nothing. She watches the speck of light on her finger in fear. To be erased, to be gone with nothing left to remind people that you were real, you were a person, you were a teenage girl who just wanted a boyfriend and to pass science class and occasionally save the world... what would it be to be nothing, the absence of something? What would it be to be the dark or the cold? She hopes she never has to know what that's like, to be chased away by the inevitability of light. She was never scared of the dark. She's scared _for_ it.

"What are you doing?" Ray grumbles into the crook of her neck, still half asleep. "Turn that light out. Go to bed."

His arm on her hip is heavy and strong and the hand on her stomach is stabilizing. He won't forget. He can't. Just because you can't see, doesn't mean you can't feel it still there, waiting in the corners for the light to leave. She will not go gentle into that good light. Taking a deep breath, the speck of light flickers out. The darkness comes flooding back, enveloping her just as securely as Ray's arm wrapped around her. The light inside of her will never overtake her, she is sure. Her eyelids flutter closed and then there is truly only darkness. Here is where she will be when the light does win. Every time they close their eyes, they'll see her and they'll remember her. She was never scared of the dark.

She was scared of the light.

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 **I hope you liked it! I was experimenting with some abstract concepts, and I also really wanted to write for this fandom. The New Mutant content is surprisingly scarce. Again, please review with your opinion, even if it's just a :) or a :(.**

 **Basically, Lissy**


	2. Sunrise Eyes

His curtain was open the next morning, which was how the light managed to crawl into his room and stab at his eyelids. Ray groaned and moved to sit up when a warm weight on his arm held him down. Looking over to his side, he saw beneath his sheets the outline of a soft curve, a deep slope, and the peak of a hip. The only part sticking out from under the covers was the silky black hair splayed all over his pillow. Gently, so as not disturb the slumbering girl, Ray used the arm that wasn't pinned to the mattress to pull the comforter back and reveal her face. His breath caught.

In the early morning light, her skin was gold and her hair was like ink. The sun softened her already round features to make them melt against her skin like an impressionist painting. He wanted to sketch the contours of her face and, pulling the blanket down further, the smooth lines of her body.

She was wearing a red spaghtetti-strap top that had ridden up to sit below her breastline and a pair of dark red pajamas pants that were hanging low on her hips. She shivered and pressed herself into him, making him shiver and press himself into her but probably for completely different reasons.

He tried to remember what had happened the night before but all he remembered was telling Bobby to get off his damn phone before falling asleep. He was sure he would have remembered if they did anything worth remembering, right? Just to be safe, he'd ask her when she woke up, which, by the looks of it wasn't going to be any time soon.

She was like a deadweight on his arm, making the appendage go numb but he was far from complaining. Instead, he studied her face some more and tentatively skimmed his fingers along the expanse of her soft abdomen to resist the urge to sketch.

Her face really was lovely with thin black eyebrows and soft eyelashes that rested delicately against her cheekbones. The slope of her nose curved roundly as did her chin and her lips were full and pouty with no cupid's bow. Her ears were elfin and mischievous but in the soft dawn, they were just delicate like the rest of her. He didn't often think of her as delicate- because in all reality, she wasn't- but it was easy to pretend she was when seeing her like this, how he'd never seen her before.

Across the room, Bobby mumbled something into the stillness of the room that made her wake up. Jubilee's eyes fluttered open.

Ray became conscious of the hand still resting on her hip and pulled it to his side. He held his breath as he waited for her to say something, or possibly explain why she was there. Instead, she just stared up at him with a sweet smile and sweet doe eyes. She looked like a painting.

"Good morning," she giggled, sounding very out of character. The Jubilation Lee he knew only snickered or chuckled (or cackled on occasion) but never giggled. Giggles were for Rahne and Kitty and Jamie and Kurt.

She rolled over so that she facing him, head still resting on his forearm. She pressed a sleepy kiss into the pit of his elbow that made his heart stop and throat catch. Smiling languidly up at him, he watched every shade of brown in her almond eyes illuminate as the sunlight crawled further into the room. He wanted nothing more than to draw her.

"Good morning," he rasped out, the inexplicable sound of a smile in his voice. He heard her breath hitch.

"What time is it?" she asked with a sleepy yawn.

Looking around for a clock, Ray found none so settled on, "Sunrise."

Her eyes widened and consumed him.

"Sunrise? Wow... maybe I can still make it."

"Maybe."

Neither of the moved.

Actually, that's a lie. She shifted so that her leg was semi-draped over his own and her head was resting on his bare chest. He was disappointed by the loss of her eyes.

"Ray?" she mumbled into his chest, sending a jolt of electricity down his spine.

"Ye-" he cleared his throat, "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He nodded and patted her back platonically but he let his hand rest there at the curve of her spine. He wasn't planning on moving unless she said anything.

She was quiet for a while. He worried she'd fallen back asleep.

"Ray?"

He let out a breath of relief.

"Yeah?"

"I need to go."

"Yeah."

Again, neither of them moved. She looked up at him and he was absolutely floored by how desperately he wanted to draw her, to trace the lines of her face onto a canvas and fill them with all the colors of the sunrise. She was so beautiful. He wanted to make those eyes last forever.

Bobby turned in his sleep and the two of them jumped apart. Slowly, she sat up like she was rising to meet the sun. Still laying down, he watched her stretch and her shirt fall back down to cover her abdomen, leaving only a little sliver of her waist exposed. Her muscles winding and unwinding cast warped shadows on her shoulderblades that he wanted to sketch. He was so close to asking.

The bed creaked as she moved over his legs to sit on the edge of the bed. She leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead, her hair coming down to form a silky curtain around them.

All too soon the sun rose above the horizon and he was left blinking, wondering if it was all a dream. He reached beneath his bed and pulled out a sketchbook.

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 **I thought Ray deserved some character development, so I gave him the morning after. Definitely a lighter note than last chapter. This is a two-shot, so there probably won't be another chapter after this. Still, please review and let me know what you think. I love this ship so much.**

 **Basically, Lissy**


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